I quickly duck into the kitchen to fill a dog dish with water, and I add a small amount of dog kibble into another bowl. Lionel usually eats raw food, but it’s best to start Emily off with something easy.
I come back out to see Kayla roaming around the room, running her hand over the dark oak table in the middle, marveling at everything. Because the room is so large, I’ve got a computer workstation set up in the corner and a long white leather couch along one wall.
“It’s more than enough space for me, that’s for sure,” I tell her, and she follows me back into the hall where I set the bowls down and open Emily’s crate. I crouch down and try to coax her out, but she shrinks back.
“We’ll give her some time,” I tell Kayla and step away. “Come, let me show you the rest of the flat.” I nod at a door across from us. “The bathroom is accessed through there. I wish it were an ensuite, but what can you do?”
I open the door to the drawing room, the natural morning light flooding from the windows. “This is the drawing room, which is just a living room in your American speak.”
“Only it’s not just any kind of room,” Kayla says, impressed again as we walk in, eyeing the comfy couches, the rows of bookshelves, the high hanging chandelier. Funny how sometimes you have to look at something through someone else’s eyes to really see it. I knew I’d lucked out when I bought the flat five years ago. I’d finally had enough money to invest it into something worthwhile (a few years after that I bought a tiny flat in London, but that I always lease out). From the hardwood floors to the decorative cornice work to the white marble fireplace, it’s always been just a little too good for a bloke like me. But my adopted father, Donald, always taught me to invest, and buying this place was one of the smartest things I’d ever done.
I quickly show Kayla through the double doors to the bedroom, which is long and narrow but looks out onto the street and park. Lionel’s dog bed is usually in the corner, though Amara has it now and he rarely uses it anyway, preferring to sleep in my bed, sneaking up in the middle of the night.
“Now,” I tell her, taking her by the shoulders and sitting her down on the bed, “you rest. I’ll get the luggage and get Emily settled.”
“No, no,” she says, attempting to stand up but I keep her pinned in place.
“I won’t let you sleep all day,” I assure her. “I don’t want your jetlag to get worse. But a two-hour nap isn’t going to kill you, all right, love?”
She puts her hands on either side of my face, and the softness of her touch causes my eyes to fall closed. “Come to bed with me,” she says softly, leaning forward and brushing her lips against mine. My whole body relaxes—I hadn’t noticed how tense I’ve been since we landed—and suddenly all I want, need, is to crawl onto the sheets beside her. Let her bring me into the here and now.
Somehow I find the will to pull away. “I will,” I tell her, my voice low and rough from even the idea of sex. “Let me just deal with all of this first.”
She nods and slowly lies back against the sheet, her dark hair spilling around the white pillow like some hypnotic inkblot. I’ll have to avoid this room and the sight of her if I’m going to get any work done.